


Move

by myllamacloud



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Retelling, Romance, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myllamacloud/pseuds/myllamacloud
Summary: What if it hadn't been the Chef that found the trolls that night and the entirety of the trolls species were forced to flee deeper into the forest to find a new home.Forced to lead the group Branch struggles with socialising with the rest of his kind and Poppy's persistent jovial attitude during a difficult trip to find a new home.Mentions of Blood and Death in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

Snipping with the tiny pair of scissors in her hand. Poppy carefully cut through the brightly coloured paper. Feeling the tight pull of a cramp working its way through her aching wrist, she finally made the last cut with a satisfying snip. Sitting back from her hunched position, she stretched tentatively to relieve the dull ache that had formed in her lower back during the extensive period of stillness, hearing a slight pop of her extremities before the blood flow returned and the numb tingly feeling in her legs ebbed away slowly.

With a deep sigh she rose from her sitting position on the floor of her flower bud home, shaking the last of the numbness from her stiff limbs. Reaching down to smooth out the creases that had formed on her light blue dress, she ran both hands over the soft fuzzy fabric until satisfied that it had looked some what presentable again.

Bending down too retrieved the card she had just finished, she checked her craftsmanship by lightly prodding it to see if the tree sap glue she had used to stick the tiny yellow troll down, had dried before slipping the card snugly into a bright green envelope and placing it carefully into a wicker basket sitting atop a small birch coffee table in the centre of her small home.

It had taken the best part of two days but she had finally finished the arduous task of creating individual cards for every one of her people, each custom made for each trolls unique colouring and talents. Proud of her hard work, she admired the large piles of brightly coloured card with a wistful sigh before turning to fetch the dustpan and brush to clean away the discarded coloured paper and glitter that had taken over the centre of her once clean home.

 It was no easy task for one troll alone to make 278 cards in such a short amount of time but she had convinced herself it was needed for such a special occasion and it would be very much appreciated by her subjects. After all it wasn’t every day that they celebrated 20 years of freedom.

With one last flick of the brush, the remaining paper, card and glitter fluttered into the depths of the pan. Straightening her back she walked stiffly over to the tiny grass woven bucket that she had been using as a waist paper basket to sweep the trash into it and taking a mental note to empty the now almost full trash can as she spun to return the dust pan and brush to its rightful place.

With a tired wide yawn she covered her mouth with her small fuzzy palm and she padded lightly over to the light pink petal doorway of her home. Grazing it gently with one pink hand before it curled delicately downwards giving her access to the outside world. A fresh burst of cooling air blew over her causing her tall pink wild hair to dance lightly in the breeze. Closing her eyes the pink troll took a few seconds to appreciate the change of temperature from the stuffy warmth inside the flower bud.

Glancing around from the elevated position of her home, her eyes were drawn to the sky as she admired the last of the suns rays illuminating the forest with rich warm orange tones as it slowly sunk from the sky. Not far in the distance she could see trolls making use of the last of the warming rays, small groups gathered together talking and laughing in each others company, while a few of the youngsters dash and darted around chasing each other, laughing and chortling with glee.

To her right more flower pods hung, some gently swaying in the cooling breeze drifting from the northern gaps in the trees. A shout from below shocked her back from admiring the view, as one of her neighbours down below called for her children to return for their evening meal. Leaning forward slightly to get a better view, Poppy placed one hand on the edge of the doorway to support her weight as she peered down to the pods below. There she caught sight of the troll who had called out.

Lilac her name was, a gentle natured female troll with a love for knitting and making pompoms. Poppy watched as the purple female plucked the last of the clean linens from the make shift drying line hanging between hers and the neighbouring pods and folded them neatly to place them into a small straw woven basket at her feet. By the time she had finished the little ones she had called had come into view.

Poppy couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the three small trolls as they came bumbling over a small crested hill, their brightly coloured purple and orange hair bouncing as they bobbled back to their mother.

Clementine, Tilly and Dandelion their names were. Poppy knew each of the children well as some of her brightest students, although Dandelion tended to daydream more than pay attention sometimes but he was still a sweet and loveable troll. They greeted their mother with enthusiasm, each one grasping on to any available part of her body to hug before regaling her with tales of their days adventure and play. The purple troll smiled sweetly at her brood as she lead the children inside and the chatter soon subsided, most likely due to eating, Poppy assumed.

A sharp round of laughter drew her attention back to the chatty group out in the clearing, which had now grown by the number of four trolls, one of which being her father the king. It seemed that he had appeared from somewhere beyond the tree line before stopping to talk the joyous group. Two teenage male trolls moved from their sitting place atop a large white stone to offer the king a place to sit, he had accepted, moving stiffly towards the seat, leaning heavily on the wooden cane in his right hand as he walked.

Watching her fathers ailing health over the past few years had been somewhat of a worry to the Princess. Peppy in his prime had been an amazing ruler, strong, brave, loving and incredibly happy but lately he had been having more bad days than good. It had been hard to watch the troll she had idolised for so long give into the test of time. He had always seemed so strong before, always the pillar of strength, the hero of her people, the troll that had set them free from the oppression and slaughter of the Bergens.

Poppy had only been a babe when he had lead their people to freedom, she had no idea about their time as captives at the troll tree, only the same tale that she now taught her students which was lacking in much detail due to its upsetting nature. 

The only thing she did know was she herself was one of the next trolls to be fed to the ever greedy and miserable Bergens. She had been curious as a young troll, having no memory of her first year of life in the confines of the Bergen’s town, she had asked her elders many times to tell her stories of the troll tree but when she had asked each ones happy smile had fallen away to a look of sadness and concern. Every time she had seen the sudden change in mood she had quickly dropped the subject to bring a smile back to the other trolls face. She hated to see any troll upset, especially if she had been the one to cause it but each time she had backed down she had been left with unanswered questions which frustrated her to no end growing up.

The most difficult troll to bring the subject up too had been her own father, the mere mention of the tree caused the stoic king to change in an instant. He had looked so lost with sadness and grief and even though she had so many burning questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask anything about what had happened to her own mother.

Poppy knew that her father had never really gotten over the loss of his beloved queen, the only thing he had ever told her was that she was the sweetest most beautiful troll that he had ever laid eyes on and that the day she was born had been the happiest day of their lives. Try as she might she couldn’t recall what her mother had even looked like, the sound of her voice, her scent, anything. The only troll she could remember had been her gentle orange fuzzy father.

Once again a dull ache opened up in her heart at the thought of what might have happened to her if King Peppy hadn’t planned the escape when he had. She was lucky to have him as a father. For the life of her she couldn’t understand how the Bergens could have been so desperate to feel the buzz of happiness, so desperate in-fact that they chose to eat a poor troll to absorb their happiness and love. Shaking herself from the dark thoughts the pink troll told herself that this was all in the past and there was nothing to fear now in the safety of the thickets and deep lush forest.

Speaking of fear, as if on cue she caught sight of the oddest of trolls far in the distance walking quickly between the thick exposed roots of two large elm trees on the opposite side of the clearing, her eyes following him as he moved swiftly through the short blades of grass and moss. If she hadn’t trained herself to spot the blue grey troll over the years, she might never have seen him moving as quickly as he does but after following the grump for the majority of her life she had found it easier to pick his duller form out from the green and brown undergrowth, much to his annoyance.

Branch was an enigma of a troll, quiet, sullen, grumpy and sometimes angry at the world and others around him. Where trolls thrived off of love and affection, Branch had completely shunned it, shying away from any physical contact with a critical look or an angry glare. This alone had perplexed her to no end. The thought of him being out there by himself was something she couldn't fathom, because actively avoiding company was way beyond her understanding.  

He chose to live a solitary life farther from the village than she would like, deep in an underground bunker rather than the usual Flower pod homes of their people. The self proclaimed survivalist was well known to all of the trolls, sometimes not for the best of reasons. Branch was known as some what of a nut with his odd ways, constant need to gather supplies and being ever fearful of the Bergens returning to devour them one day, he firmly believed it too.

Telling her more times than she could count that she was far to loud, that someday the worst would happen and he would be ready to hide in the safety of his bunker until the apocalypse had passed. Branch although extremely paranoid and glum could actually be very sweet when he was in a generous mood. Many times he had helped the local healer Dr Plum gather necessary ingredients for medicine when stocks close to the village had ran too low.

It was a shame really, Branch was an impressive male. Physically fit although a little more heavy set than most of the males in the village, not fat, just thicker with muscle and sturdier. He was strong, an excellent provider and craftsman and when he wasn’t off on one of his usual “The Bergen’s are coming.” Rants he was actually very smart and articulate. If not for his sour mood and self imposed solitude Poppy was sure that more than a few female trolls would have come calling to be his mate but Branch hadn’t seemed interested in taking one, not the slightest bit interested in all of the time she had known him which was practically her whole life.

She had seen some of the trolls of the village practically collapse from exhaustion exerting themselves through songs and dance to attract the attention of the object of their affections during their courtship festivals but Branch had never made an appearance.

Again his darker form appeared, bringing her from her inner workings only to see him disappear through the gaps and splits of tangled vines in the undergrowth before vanishing from view altogether. “Heading home.” she thought to herself judging from the direction he was heading. Glancing down to the huddles of chatting trolls she could tell that none of them had seen him or if they had they had taken no notice what’s so ever.

She toyed with the idea of following him to deliver his invitation in person but quickly squashed the idea as the warm tones faded from the sky and dark shadows engulfed the forest floor and night took hold. Poppy stayed in the doorway for sometime before the chill of the cool night air caused a sudden shudder to creep up her spine forcing her to return to the warmth of her tiny home. Pivoting gracefully she lent down to graze the door petal once more, causing it to roll back into place.

By this time only a faint light emitting from the small luminous fungi standing on her bedside table allowed her to see. Moving slowly she tapped the remaining lamps, the friction causing them to bloom to life, each letting off a warm and comforting glow. Letting her mind wonder over the events that were soon to take place, mentally Poppy ticked off the necessary items needed and placements. So far things seemed to be going according to plan.

The only thing left to do was to give out the invitations the next day with the help of her friends of course. This celebration would be good for all of the trolls, including Branch if she could convince him to come. But that was easier said than done when it came to the grumpy troll. But Poppy was never one to give up on anything without a fight, besides she had worked miracles before.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was finally here, the big party was all set for tonight. All plans were in place, cakes, sweets and pastries all set out on old beach wooden tables running almost the full length of the trolls village. Barrels of sweet juices lining the southern side of the clearing and some fermented wines for the older party goers. Colourful streamers blowing lightly in the breeze above, hanging from tree to tree and finally the flower cannons that would let off the most spectacular display in troll history.

Poppy smiled proud of all the hard work she’d put in the past few days was finally coming together, as she suppressed the urge to sing with glee. “This has shaped up very nicely.” A gruff voice spoke, the princess sprung forwards towards the older male troll, wrapping her arms around his pudgy right arm in half a hug. “Thanks Dad.” Her fathers jolly rounded orange face smiled back as his frazzled fuzzy pink and grey hair danced in the breeze.

“So, is everything set for the big night?” He asked with an excited clap of his hands. Before she had a chance to answer a loud shout broke the peace causing the pair to turn towards it.

“You have got to be kidding me!” The deep voice called, its tone angry and agitated. Facing the angry Troll she came face to face with non other than the grey grump himself, Branch. His blue eyes locked with hers, anger evident on his face with a deep scowl, he marched up to the royal pair, almost stomping his feet as he strode.

Standing her ground Poppy prepared for the verbal onslaught, mentally preparing herself to counter him when needed.  She was never a troll that liked to argue but she had to admit that banter with Branch was for her at least, actually quite fun but she was sure he didn’t see it the same way.

She had tried to deliver the invitation in person a few days pryer but upon arriving at the entrance of his home she had gotten no answer. At the time she hadn’t been sure if he just wasn't home or he was ignoring her completely. That had been three days ago. How had he only just seen it?

After attaching the envelope to the entrance of the bunker tightly with a light blue ribbon she had left and hoped that he would find it. She had been sure to secure it to the “Go Away” mat tightly. Had it blown away and he had only just found it?

Dumping what appeared to be a tightly bound twig pile down to the ground, he squared up to her with a scowl on his lips. “Hey Branch! And here I thought you wouldn’t make it.” She smiled ignoring the grumps aggressive stance. Sizing up the perturbed troll in-front of her, she onced over his usual sour self. His tall dark hair black in colour sticking straight up in the air, his grey blue fuzz seemed to prickle with anger but he did seem a little more worse for wear than usual. Usually Branch was a fairly clean troll, other than when he had been foraging all day but this time he looked worse. Tired and tatty. 

Most of the other trolls would be a little more than intimidated by the strong male but Poppy having dealt with his nagging for so long had remained unfazed by him. As much as he postured she knew he wasn’t physically violent and never had been to another troll. “Please tell me this is a sick joke?” He growled. “And what sick joke would that be Branch?” She replied with a smirk.

 “Flower cannons?” He exclaimed raising his right hand to point at the offending objects. “Are you serious?” He finished, his tone harsh and deep. “Very serious, hence why we have cannons.” She retorted much to his dismay. “Are you throwing a party or ringing a dinner bell for the Bergens? Because this place is going to be a walking buffet by nightfall!”

She studied him before answering, choosing her words carefully, still unsure if she should push more buttons or try to calm him. As much as she liked ribbing him she still hoped he would someday see the light side of her actions but once again he hadn’t taken her humour well.

“Branch, this is the 20th anniversary of our freedom, its a big deal for us.” she spoke softly to him as she reached out placing her smaller pink hand on top of his larger one. Upon making contact he had immediately recoiled  and took a step back from her with a glower. Slightly hurt from the sudden rejection she was quick to regain her composure  before continuing. “Come on Branch, lighten up. Everything’s going to be fine. Come tonight, you’ll have fun, please.” Poppy pleaded.

Branch remained silent taking in her soft spoken words and for a split second the anger fell away from his face, almost as if he had contemplated it, before again the angry glower return and so did his retort. “If you’re planning what I think you’re are planning tonight Poppy, I’m not stepping a foot into this clearing. Set those things off and it’ll be heard for miles around. You’ll attract the attention of everything in a 20 mile radius. Is this a party or a suicide attempt?” He finished locking blue eyes again to her dark pink ones.

Once again without missing a beat she grinned back at him but before she had a chance to sing the first note the look of realisation spread over his features like wild fire and quickly he turned his attention to her father the king. Poppy at first had been a little disappointed that he had had the foresight into her inner workings to know that she was going to burst into song but a part of her was very impressed that he had been able to judge a trolls actions so quickly, usually he wasn’t quick on the up take for social queues from others but this time he had been right on the mark.

“You can’t go through with this.” Branch spoke to the king with a little more respect than he had just addressed her. Her father regarded the younger male with a curious look before leaning forward heavily on his walking cane to speak. “Branch I understand you have reservations about this but we haven’t seen hide nor hair of a Bergen in these parts since we settled here all those years ago. I know why you’re worried for our safety but maybe its time to let go of the past. We need to start looking towards the future.” The King finished turning to look to his daughter with a proud smile.

Staying silent for a few seconds Branch gave out a huff of frustration before giving in. “You’re all insane. If you want to turn your people into a walking singing snack pack for the Bergens be my guest.” he spoke harshly. “I can’t believe you're going to be queen one day, pulling stunts like this is going to get you all killed.” he muttered harshly.

With that Branch turned his heels on the royal pair, gathered his wood pile and secured it over his shoulder and uttered. “Nice knowing you.” with that he headed back into the thick undergrowth of the forest and out of sight.

That last comment had stung, she had made a move to follow him before a fuzzy orange hand on her shoulder had stopped her mid stride. "Let him be, Poppy.” her father told her with a sad smile, she reluctantly obeyed.

Part of her wanted to give chase, to try and convince him that everything was going to be OK. That if he did spend sometime with the rest of their people he might actually like it and maybe enjoy himself for once in his life. Maybe she had gone to far this time, he was never usually that harsh with his words but that one comment had dug a little too deep. Did he really distrust her that much?

As if sensing his daughters inner conflict king Peppy quickly change the subject bring her attention back to the matters at hand. But all thoughts were quickly wiped from her mind as her friends had arrived in the clearing bouncing up to her with excited chatter. Satin and chenille had been the first to reach her as they skidded gracefully to a stop before her and King Peppy in perfect sync. The two beautiful twins smiled sweetly to her before each of them curtsied politely to address the king. Her father had found the actions quite humorous, causing the older troll to gave out a loud hearty belly laugh before he bowed back to the twins and took his leave, not before giving the princess a quick hug.

Raising themselves from their formal stance the twin girls bounced towards her speaking in tandem shifting to either side of the princess as their conjoined hair flowed over her head sheltering her from the warm sunshine. “Your dress is finished.” they spoke together in a sing song tone. The hurt of Branch’s words soon fell away from her mind upon hearing that, she had picked out the fabric herself when she had asked the girls to make the dress for their special night.

A beautiful fabric soft to the touch but quite durable, light teal in colour, her absolute favourite colour, although her favourite tended to change on a daily bases, depending on her mood, teal was definitely the colour she favoured over all the others. So much so that she had made her own hug bracelet from a similar colour. Giving out a joyful squeak she followed the pair back to their large yellow and pink budded home chatting excitedly as they went.

Upon entering the centre of their small town her eyes soon wandered to the villages centre where a flash of light purple caught her attention and caused her heart to flutter.

Creek.

She stopped to watch the yoga guru as he taught his afternoon class, shifting gracefully into the next pose as his students followed. Suddenly all of her worries fell away, all that mattered was right here in front of her.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

The night had been a real hit so far, all of the trolls old and young had arrived to the party, happy and joyfully celebrating, feasting, drinking, laughing, singing and dancing the whole night away, all but one troll at least.

She had looked for him between musical numbers she had performed for the gleeful crowd, but Branch didn’t show. A dull ache in her chest had formed while thinking of the grumpy troll hunkered up in that dooms day bunker all alone. He had to have been lonely all by himself, no one to hug or even talk too. If only he’d just try for once in his life to have fun he might actually smile for once.

A soft tap on her shoulder made her turn to face the handsome troll trying to get her attention, she gazed into his half lidded blue eyes and had instantly been lost to all round her. “Hey.” He spoke softly. “Hey yourself.” She giggled back as he reached to grasp her left hand feeling the soft purple fuzz of his palm mould with hers.

“Your aura seems off.” he told her with a smirk. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, I just...” She faltered as she turned to glass the crowd one more time. “Its nothing, come on, you can help me judge the limbo competition for the children.”

“Just for the kids? Because you know with all my training I am the master of flexibility.” She laughed as she pulled the handsome male deeper into the crowd, casting the thought of the glum troll from her mind once again. She had been determined that she wouldn’t let one trolls absence ruin the whole night for her and Creek was the most welcomed distraction she could have asked for.

After many hours of dance and song,  finally the festivities started to draw to a close. The closing speech had been preformed by herself to honour her brave father for all of his effort and hard work guiding their people to freedom and ever lasting happiness. The king had been moved by his daughters speech and held her tightly when she had finished, tears rolling down his eyes from sheer joy.

Last but by no means least, the flower cannons had been fired, brightly coloured fireworks lit up the nights sky in an amazing spectacle, giant plumes of red blue and orange flickering through the black canvassed star speckled sky, loud fizzling pops boomed across the valley when silver and gold glitter pattered down from the sky, some forming large pictures of flowers, birds and even trolls. The magic put in to them was well worth the energy seeing the response. The crowds had loved it, cheering with glee at every bang, pop and squeal. Yes this had been worth all of the effort and best of all, everyone was happy.

Jumping down from the large toadstool they had been using for a stage she made her way over to the snack table. She took a piece of mint cake before popping it into her mouth savouring the sweet cooling flavour as she chewed. A small orange hand appeared from the other side of the table, the small fingers searching for a tasty treat, a treat that they mustn’t have been allowed to have, she figured due to its sneaky nature. Poppy laughed upon hearing tiny voices below the stand, hurrying the little scamp because there were hungry little mouths needed to be fed.

Humoured by the little trolls determination she lifted a plate with a good sized strawberry short cake with vanilla frosting using her left hand to hide the plate behind her back and the right hand to pull back the white table cloth to duck underneath. There she found six little trolls of different ages with shocked and scared faces.

At first she gave them a stern look before her facade cracked and her frown gave way to a light hearted laugh and smile and she presented the desert to the hungry children. Fear soon turn to delight as they tucked into the cake stuffing their faces with groans of gratitude to their great princess.

“Don’t tell your parents.” She replied with a giggle as she left the hungry mites to their spoils. Making her way across the dance floor through the bodies of frolicking and singing couples, some a little bit tipsy from the mulled wine which was evident by their slurred words and laughter.

Tonight had been a complete success, the sight had warmed her heart and soul, she had done a good job for her people and most of all they were happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change the lay out of the bunker a little to fit the narrative for later on in the story, so apologies I had to make an extra room.  
> I also apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors. I didn't have the best education and it is free reading. haha .

“Maybe I was to hard on her.” Branch muttered to himself as he pushed a rather large berry into the spare slot of his honey combed shelves. He frowned as he turned and made his way deeper into the bunker towards the back room.  
Entering through the low door frame he hesitated as his eyes were drawn to the brightly coloured piece of card that had been plaguing his conscience for the past few hours.

Finding the will to move again he made his way over to the table that it was perched upon and sat heavily on the small wooden stool to rest his head in both hands and glare back at his doppelgänger and bane of his existence.

He stared at the colours and craftsmanship and wished he had never set eyes on the damn thing. Looking back at him was little a paper version of himself and he couldn't help but feel like it was judging him. It was very well crafted, each colour matching his own almost to a tee and its deep scowl matched his current mood perfectly.

After returning from a three day trek to the east to gather more medicinal herbs from the river banks, he was cranky and irritable, all he wanted was to have a good meal and a long nap. But no, Poppy had left that god damn death sentence on his door step.

It was only because of Poppy that he even had to make the three day round trip in the first place. He had given the last bundle of meadowsweet to the healer, Plum Pimsy on Poppy's request after the children had each caught a nasty fever and Poppy had caught him with a worried expression plastered across her beautiful face and a plea for help.

After discovering the brightly coloured paper attached to the entrance of his home, he had dumped the heavy sack from his shoulder on to the ground with a groan to retrieve it. His first mistake had been to open the blasted card only to be sprayed with a glittery stream of nightmare dust, ejected by a tiny canon on the inner pages. By the gods he hated the stuff, It stuck to everything, his fur, clothes and hair. Even when he had thought he had rid himself of the last fleck one would appear somewhere, glinting in the sunlight to haunt him once again. As if sensing his distaste for it another freckle glinted on his right arm causing him to pluck off the offending sparkle with a huff of annoyance.

Honestly he had no idea how glitter trolls managed to put up with it after shedding so much during their early spring moult and he shuddered to think of what their homes and bedding had looked like after.  
To put the icing on his bad mood cake, Poppy had decided to throw a party so big that every predator from here to Bergen town would be notified of their hidden valley home.

She really had to be crazy to think that making so much noise wouldn’t cause any back lash. Even if by some miracle it didn't attract the Bergen’s attention, some form of predator would take notice and most likely be making its way down into the valley at this very moment.  
The very thought had set his nerves on edge, so much so that he rose from his seat to double check the bunker once more before he returned to his seat.

He always felt guilty after using harsh words with the princess but at the same time he couldn’t help himself. Her inability to comprehend the dangers was utterly frustrating to him. Twenty years of freedom away from the worries of the world had turned them all soft in the head, including the King.

King Peppy had once been a great warrior for their people and a troll that Branch truly respected. The journey from the troll tree hadn’t been a safe one, King Peppy had saved them from a few creatures that tried to take a bite out of their numbers but each time they were driven away by the king.  
It was impressive to see the jovial troll so valiant and strong but Peppy was ageing and his injuries took their toll on his body, forcing him to use a cane to aid him.

It seemed that Peppy had been favouring his cane far too heavily lately and his need to rest after short walks even Branch had noticed and he barely had anything to do with him.  
It wouldn’t be long before the elderly king stepped down and crowned Poppy as the new queen. That was a scary thought. Cupcakes and rainbows Poppy facing off against the world to protect their people. If something did attack she’d most likely try to make friends or cover it in glitter before it swallowed her whole, he shuddered at the thought. 

A sudden pop over his heard caused him to flinch and tense before he realised what it was. They were louder than he thought they would be, hearing them this deep underground was not a good sign. He listened intently, his sensitive ears twitching with every pop, fizz and bang. Before long the noises ceased leaving the bunker eerily quiet and still. 

That was it then. She hadn't taken his warnings seriously and before long Bergen’s would be sniffing around in the area, looking for the source of the sound. 

The muscles in his shoulders had constricted so tightly that he wasn't sure if they would ever unclench again and a headache soon throbbed through his temples with every heartbeat. Why did he care anyway? It wasn’t his concern. He’d seen the truth a long time ago and prepared for the worse case scenario.  
If they were willing to bring destruction down on their own heads, then fine, he would have nothing to do with it. He tried to talk himself down without much success. 

Soon the anger he felt gave way to sorrow as he mulled over the facts until he felt tired and a little nauseous. Looking back towards the mini grump staring back at him he felt a wash of guilt drench his body. "Don't judge me." he muttered to his mini me before scooping it up in his right hand to toss it behind the light pink curtain with the other invitations he had collected over the years and closed it swiftly. He had already felt guilty enough for treating Poppy so poorly never mind her impending doom, he didn't need a paper figures judgement right now too.

As much as her sweet smiles sometimes caused butterflies to flutter around his belly he wasn’t about to give into those feelings and put himself in danger. He needed to stay vigilant and strong and not make goo goo eyes at the pretty princess in hopes of getting more attention from her. She didn’t leave him alone at the best of times never mind if he let himself have feelings for her.

Pretty much everyday she paid him a visit to say “Hi.” Giving him an invitation to whatever party she had made up that day, or to sing to him, although he was sure she did that to piss him off sometimes.  
He never liked it when she sang, it made him feel things he didn’t want to feel, an odd familiar yet foreign stirring in his soul that would resinate at first but quickly turned sour as the energy brought those horrible memories back to the surface. 

Branch knew full well when a troll sings, it creates a special magic to spread to others in order for them to join in, spreading the lyrics and the beat. Poppy had mastered the art at a very young age which was impressive because not even a lot of adult trolls ever learn how to do it as well as she did. Because of this Poppy had tried to push this magic on him more times than he could count and he’d push against it, forcing it away with all his might. He didn’t like it, not any more, not after what happened. 

Catching himself slipping into a pit of sadness he forced the waves of guilt down into the pit of his stomach where they belonged.  
Shifting to stand, he moved slowly towards the rope ladder that lead to his bedroom, suddenly feeling the past few days events heavily in his tired body. He needed rest. Hopefully he could stop his mind from fizzing with worry and concern for the idiots dancing their hearts out on the surface.

Making his way to the small bedroom he removed his leaf covered vest before tossing it lazily to drape over a near by set of dumbbells made from iron wood and rounded heavy stones. With one bound he made it into the hammock hanging from two secured tree roots over head. The strong waxy leaves swayed from side to side from his weight and momentum causing it to swing in a slow rocking fashion, he let the motion take hold to rock him into an uncomfortable slumber. He’d have to worry about it in the morning, Tonight he was far to tired to deal with it.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Poppy skipped through the sea of colourful trolls searching the crowds for her crush but so far she had no luck locating the purple, placid troll. She had circled the crowd at least four times by now, asking Guy, Biggie and Fuzzbert as she passed them if they knew where he could have gotten too. Each one had stated that they hadn’t seen him since before the flower canons had been set off and that they would let him know she was looking for him. She thanked them as she set out once more into the crowd.

Had he left? Why didn’t he say goodbye or goodnight?

As she reached the centre of the crowd something happened that took her by surprise. A loud cracking of tree limbs and snapping of the undergrowth echoed through the valley. It was so loud she heard it over the jovial song. Grinding to a halt she stopped stone still, listening intently as some of the others in the crowd around her did the same. She hadn’t been the only one to hear it.

A drunken couple still high on life and to much alcohol carried on with their song until they felt the first impact tremor. Laurel sobered up quickly, placing a violet hand over her husbands loud yellow mouth silencing the confused troll. Every troll looked to one another confused by the odd sounds and vibrations trembling through the ground.

Finally the music died down as Suki halted the track mid beat with a look of confusion upon her dark orange face and peered around the crowd hoping that someone would have an explanation. An uncomfortable silence settled over them as the sounds ceased but not one of them spoke or moved. After a few seconds heads turned towards her, each one looking for guidance or an explanation from their princess but she had none to give. She was just as lost as they were. 

Feeling the need to take control of the situation Poppy took a step towards the main toadstool stage before a glint of eye shine in the trees stopped her dead in her tracks. Locking her gaze onto the spot an involuntary tremble began to work its way from her shoulders and down to her knees.

It was huge, bigger than any living creature she had ever seen in her life. It was so large that she had to crane her head backwards just to take in its full hight. An icy dread climbed up her spine as she watched the massive, menacing and hulking frame towering over the colourful streamers above her head and the realisation of what she was actually seeing dawned on her. She couldn't speak, couldn't move, all she could do was stare into the giants crimson orbs peering hungrily down on her. She knew what this creature was. Branch had been right all along.

The Bergen’s had found them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter and I don't like to leave cliff hangers so next update will be up soon, it is written but needs tweaking.  
> Thanks for the nice comments, its really giving me the confidence to continue writing rather than hoard it all on my laptop. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally posted this before it was finished, with errors all over the place my bad.  
> If you read this chapter 3 and didn't read Branch's portion than scroll past Poppy's part to the bracket.

The silence was deafening. No one moved, terror and shock had rooted them all in place.

Many of the trolls had never set eyes on a Bergen before, having been born out here in the safety of the forest, they had been told of their size and girth but that pales in comparison to seeing one of the behemoths in flesh and blood. Even Poppy herself couldn’t remember seeing one and she had been born in the Bergen's home town. But here one was, pinning them down with a hungry glare, terrifying Poppy to her core.

She couldn't control the involuntary shake that rippled through her body, causing her knees to knock together as she tried her best to gather her senses and fight against the natural instincts holding her in place. She needed to move, run, scream, shout, do something, anything but she couldn't brake free of the primal hold over her body nailing her to the ground. 

Finally she was released from her statuesque state when a sudden gut wrenching scream echoed over the crowd from behind her. A cold prickle of terror shot down her spine at the sound. Before she had a chance to react she was shunted forwards a few steps by a body behind her causing her to brake her fixated stare on the Bergen.  
Turning sharply she pulled away from the troll who had pushed her and was met with a sight that she never wished she would witness. 

Stepping out of the foliage and swooping down with a huge grotesque hand another Bergen snagged someone from the crowd. Closing its hand quickly and too tight the troll that it caught screeched in pain and terror as she was lifted from the ground. Oh gods, it had Marigold in its grasp.  
Braking out of her shocked state Poppy made a brake towards the beast, pushing her way through the crowd of shocked trolls to try in some way to help her. Marigold let another terrified screech as she struggled, her bright orange hair flicking in distress as she pleaded and begged for it to let go, it was hurting her.

Poppy had never heard a noise like that come from a troll before and it was a sound that would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life.  
She looked so small in the Bergen's grasp, just a tiny creature struggling and pleading for mercy. Her small right arm was the only part of her free from its grasp and desperately she slammed down with her tiny balled up fists on the giants fingers in a futile attempt to free herself.  
In one fast motion the poor troll was whipped forwards with such force that her head was thrown backwards and with a thump she was tossed carelessly into a large brown dirty sack in his left hand and her screams ceased. 

Finding her voice through the pure horror of what she had just witnessed Poppy screamed out to the rest of her people. “Run!” was the only thing she had been able to say before all hell broke loose around her.  
Trolls scattered and collided around her as they tried to clamber to safety. Around them the two lumbering giants swung down with gigantic hands, trying to catch whoever was trying to pass them. Luckily they seemed to be quite clumsy in their efforts but that didn't make the danger any less severe. 

Jumping up on to the mushroom stage Poppy took control of her fear in order to help her frantic subjects in anyway she could. Taking a deep breath she called so loud her throat strained so she could be heard over the panicked screams and shouts. "Blend in! Try to blend in!" Thankfully a few trolls had heard her over the pandemonium as a few of the brightly coloured heads around her began to change into earthy tones of browns and greens so that they wouldn't be seen as moving targets and quickly they filtered out into the undergrowth and out of sight. 

A child’s cry rang out in front of her and quickly Poppy had scanned the area for the source of the noise. Not far ahead of the toadstool was a group of children huddled together too terrified to move as they hugged each other close for comfort and sobbed in distress. Launching forwards Poppy gathered the group together and with the help of a few other adults they managed to get them to safety into the thick brush before she headed back into the fray. 

By now most of the crowd were filtering into the grasses and thick vegetation but the two Bergens were still present. The taller one holding a metal cage in its wart covered purple hand, smiling with joyful glee as he slammed the metal door closed with a loud metallic clang.  It was then Poppy caught sight of a few trolls behind the tight metal bars, huddled together and struggling to remain on their feet at the cage swung back and forth with the Bergen’s lumbering movements.

Her heart stopped, Cooper and Biggie were definitely in that cage, it couldn’t have been anyone else, their forms were to unique to mistake. She had to do something to help them but their captors were just so big. Racking her brain she tried to formulate a plan before a shock of orange and grey frazzled hair caught her attention.  
A pit of dread opened up in her stomach as the realisation of who it was dawned on her. It was her father and he was making a bee line right to the Bergen’s feet with a look of fury on his face as he held is cane aloft ready for a fight.

Jumping into action Poppy bolted towards her father before the Bergens could catch sight of him. Grabbing him by the hand she dragged the angry Troll backwards into the thick brush before skidding to a halt at the thick stems base and tried to catch her panicked breath.  
Again her father made a move to head back out into the open before she had latched her hands around his right arm to halt him. “Dad, No!” She pleaded through laboured pants. 

He stopped fighting her when they heard the sound of approaching heavy foot steps, each stride vibrating through the ground and into their bodies as its feet made impact with the dirt and a huge foot slammed down before them and with it the horrid stench of unwashed feet that burned her nostrils.

“I saw some of them bolt under that bush right there.” A gruff voice called as they heard a rustle of fabric and the foot scraped backwards as a tatty brown fabric covered knee descended to the ground.  
Thinking fast Poppy released her hair to shield them from view, changing the colour and tone to match a clump of moss by their side, she had finished not a second before the Bergen's grotesque face reached down to peer under the bush. Through the gaps in her camouflaged tendrils, Poppy watched the creature glare unknowingly straight in their direction.  
Its red and yellow blood shot eyes scanned the area, squinting to make sense of anything in the darkness, its pupils darting too and throw in quick motions that almost made Poppy feel sick, beside her, her father tensed and raised his cane once again really to fight if needed. 

“Leave them, we have plenty for now.” The other Bergen laughed aloud. “The king will pay us a hefty sum for this lot.” With a huff of putrid air, Its face drew back and out of sight and with a few tremors it walked back towards its companion. Both she and her father remained silent and still as the giants footfalls retreated and soon the sound of cracking tree limbs and rustling leaves grew distant and finally they were left in silence. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Branch awoke with a start, groggy and utterly confused. He hadn't been sure how long he had been asleep before he sat bolt up right in his hammock. Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes he tried to shake the fuzz from his brain but failed miserably as his muddled mind tried to make sense of what had awoken him. Bleary eyed he scanned the dimly lit room for a reason to his sudden awakening but found none.

The last time he had been woken up so suddenly, had been because one of the four luminous bugs that he allowed to wonder over the ceilings of his home for extra light had fallen down straight on top of him, landing on his stomach before tumbling to the floor.  
That particular bug was somewhat of a klutz, falling down more times than he could count. He had been tempted to toss the damn thing outside but he had a soft spot for the dumb creature after having it around for so long but still it never usually woke him during the night. 

Just then he heard a soft thud, it was distant but noticeable and foreign to his usually silent home. Rolling out of the hammock he descended the ladder to investigate but after reaching the basement level he was met with the sight of all four bugs snuggled together sleeping on the highest point of the left hand wall just above the honey comb shelves and the klutz was with them. 

Scanning the area he checked over his supplies, wondering if something might have fallen or shifted but found nothing out of place. Running a hand through his unruly hair he prepared himself to perform a full home check when, a clack above him caused him to whip around to face the open entrance of the elevator and sound of scuffling filled the room.  
“What the?” Was all he managed to muster before a rainbow of trolls came tumbling down into his home, landing in a large pile before the flummoxed grey troll.

Shock soon gave way to anger at the sudden unwelcome intrusion, as he watched the crowd separate and filter into any available space. He was ready to throw each one of them back out of the trap door when he caught sight of their faces. Branch had never seen them so fearful before. Children were held tightly in the adults grasp as they whimpered and cuddled closer to their parents, obviously distressed. Even some of the adults were shaking and most of all not a single smile in the whole crowd. They shifted and settled in each corner of the large hall way filling almost all of the space between the boxes and shelves.

Still completely outraged at the intrusion but still unsure of how to respond due to the crowds fragile state, Branch was about to demand an explanation before a bright orange and grey Troll stepped before him. It was King Peppy and his old face had seemed to age 10 year since the last time he had seen him earlier that day, his wild orange and grey hair more frazzled than usual and anguished frown on his lips.

“Peppy! What the hell?” Branch exclaimed holding his arms out to gesture at his home invaders.

“Branch my boy, we had no choice. The Bergen’s are back.” Was all the old king could muster.

Branch knew it. He knew that party was going to bring ruin upon them but did anybody listen? No, just paranoid Branch going off on a tantrum again, he thought darkly to himself. He had wanted to gloat but after seeing how terrified they all were he decided against it, he might have been a grump but he wasn’t that cruel.  
How had they even found his bunker in the first place? Not a single one of the trolls present had known the secret entrance to his underground home, how had they...? Poppy! Where was the pink pain in his backside? He was going to give her a piece of his mind no matter how many frightened trolls were watching.

“Where’s Poppy?” He barked out a little too harshly causing a few trolls close to him to flinch. “She went after them. They caught some of us. I couldn’t stop her.” The old King had choked out before tears fell down his chubby cheeks. A few trolls came from the crowd to comfort the poor king, hugging him gently as a young green and yellow female Branch didn't know handed the king a small light green handkerchief to dry his tears.

The rage he felt was quickly diluted with a cold glass of dread that rushed though his system so quickly he hadn't been able to hold onto his concern.  
“She went alone? Why didn’t anyone try to stop her?” All of these questions had spilled out of his mouth before he could check himself.  
“We tried but she wouldn’t listen.” A voice came from behind him, Branch turned to see a green male troll addressing him. Moss he thought his name was. “We couldn’t do anything.” He continued before a small green haired girl pulled on his shorts right leg and raised her arms to be held. Moss paused as he obliged by lifting the small child into his arms resting the frightened girl against his hip as she snuggled into his chest obviously upset.

Trying his best not to raise his voice to upset the child any farther, Branch chose his words carefully and tried to speak as softly as his body would allow in such a heightened state. "She sent you here?” The blue grey troll asked the green male but still the words came out a little harsh.

“Yes." Moss told him. "She gathered us together and directed us here, she said we’d be safe from them.” Moss replied. Great, thanks to Poppy he had the majority of his species now taking up residents in his own home and she hadn’t had the courtesy to even warn him first. “Did any Bergens see you come down here?” Branch asked him in a serious tone.

“No, they left. They headed south towards the river.” Moss answered sadly as he hugged his young daughter tightly to his chest and nuzzled his face into the tuft of her green hair and hugged her tightly in his arms.

That was one saving grace at least. Branch turned and pushed his way through the crowd of trolls, making his way back into his bedroom before adorning his usual green leaf vest and yanking his rucksack from behind a water barrel.  
Moving back out into the hallway the other’s shifted out of his way as he moved a rather large box, opening the lid to sift through the contents, finding a large hunting knife and its holster before tying it around his waist.

“No one leaves this bunker, the last thing we need is a Bergen to find this place!” He called as he headed to the elevator. “Where are you going?” The king asked finally gathering his senses and shuffling towards him with concern. “To stop your idiot of a daughter from getting eaten.” he replied as he activated the elevator and began his assent. “Don’t touch anything!” He warned the crowd as he made his way to the surface, hoping he wouldn't be to late to stop his stubborn princess from becoming a Bergens horderve.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre warning this chapter has mentions of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It kinda gets a bit dark at the very end of the chapter. So you've been warned.

Poppy continued to follow the deep impressions of the Bergen’s foot prints further and further from the troll village, she had never gone this far out into the forest before but she couldn’t stop now, this was all her fault and she was going to find away to save the captured trolls.

The forest was almost pitch black in the undergrowth and she struggled to find the path in what little light the moon cast upon the ground.  
Thankfully the two destructive giants had cut their way through the thick vegetation, leaving a massive pathway for her to follow. Jumping over a deep toe mark she skidded to a halt when she heard movement up ahead. Creeping closer she could scent the distinct smell of wood smoke and the strong musk of the two Bergens, she had to be very close.

Using as much stealth as possible she entered the tall grass and slowly crept towards the noise. She caught sight of their camp fire through the gaps in the grass blades before seeing two Bergens silhouettes laughing and joking in front of its flames. Amongst the scent of burning wood she also caught something in the air that she had not been familiar with, a deep sweet scent that bothered her greatly but still she pressed forwards.

“Too us!” One of the Bergens called out loudly as he clinked his amber coloured glass bottle to his companions, before they each took a swig of the foul smelling liquid. Finishing his gulp with a satisfied exhale he then leaned forwards to stir the contents of a dark pan hanging over the flames.

“Too our rainbow coloured fortune!” the other Bergen laughed as they began to sing an unfamiliar song completely out of tune as they rocked too and throw with delight. Poppy's heart dropped into her stomach as she heard the joyous pair butcher another tune. They were happy. Bergens weren't meant to be happy. Even with her limited knowledge of the creatures she knew for a fact that the only reason they could have been this high on life was because... she retched at the thought. They couldn't have eaten someone, could they? Maybe they were just happy because they had caught them, not because they had eaten anyone.

No. she refused to believe it and her people needed help. Swallowing thickly she steadied herself and continued towards the Bergens camp, creeping closer to the celebrating pair.  
Reaching forwards to part two blades of grass in front of her, she peered through the opening to get a better look around the Bergen’s camp site.  
The two giants sat on either side of the fire facing each other. She had to be careful, with one sideways glance it wouldn't have been hard for one of them to spot her. Feeling suddenly exposed she pulled her head back slightly so her bright colours couldn't be seen in the shadows.

Satisfied that she wouldn't be seen she scanned the camp ground as best she could through the blades of grass.  
A drab green tent stood to their right, with an assortment of bags and boxes stacked against its left side. Next to that was a large rack made of branches and twine, hanging from its centre was a mixture of different animal carcases and skins, each ones heads lolling with open sunken eyes and protruding bloated tongues.

Now the thick deep scent that had bothered her so much had made sense. She had never smelt the scent of death so strong before, even when one of her own people had died it was never this strong or unsettling and very rare.  
There were only a hand full of elders in their numbers due to the Bergens yearly harvests thinning out their numbers, so other that accidental deaths it was extremely rare to attend a funeral in the troll village at all, so she had never become accustomed to the horror of death.

Poppy had never seen most of the animals before either. Larger creatures tended to stay clear of the troll village because of the thick vegetation, at least that was what Branch had told her. Swallowing down the bile that had risen in her throat at the sight and smell she put herself back to the task at hand. She had made a mistake and put her people in danger and now she was going to fix it, she had to rescue her friends.

After peeling her eyes away from the horror show, a glint of metal reflecting the light of the dancing flames drew her attention back to the weather beaten old tent resting just on the edge of the fire light. Letting her eyes adjust she honed in on the flickering object and was relieved to see that it was the same shape an size as the cage she had seen in the Bergens grasp, only now it was covered with a mottled old dirty rag that hung limply over its sides, leaving only a small section of the rusted bars visible.

Slowly she moved through the blades of thick grass and made her way closer to the tower of a tent. Unfortunately she reach the grass lines boundary and with only bare ground from there to the cage she had to holt her progress. Having no cover to protect her for the last leg of the journey she contemplated dashing over to the cage but decided against it as she was too close to one of the Bergens.

“So what's the plan?" One of the Bergens spoke. "Take these little beauties to town first thing in the morning and then drink ourselves silly by nightfall?” he finished and then leant forwards to tap the cage rather hard, causing the metal to clank and rock. Poppy flinched, now she knew where the others were, but that knock must have been uncomfortable for them.

“I don’t know, it was hard to find this place. Not an easy trek either. Maybe we should catch some more before we leave.” The green one replied as he drained his bottle before he threw it at a near by tree trunk, causing it to crash and shatter and glass to spray out into the surrounding trees.

"They’ve probably cleared out by now.” The Purple one spoke again, as he handed his companion another bottle.

“Are you kidding, they’re dumb. Practically drew us right to them with that little firework display.” he replied as he took the bottle before snapping the top open with a hiss, causing frothy liquid to spill over the top and down its sides. As If Poppy already hadn't felt guilty enough. "They're too small to get very far, I bet there'll be a few stragglers around somewhere. Besides, we would have had a lot more if you hadn't been so rough with them." The green one replied with a sneer. "Take yours back if you want, I'm staying until I've got as many as I can."

"You said we were going to share them Mike." The purple one bit back with an angry tone. "50/50. That was the plan." With that he lifted the pan from the flames and turned to empty its contents out onto two plates resting by its side. "If it wasn't for me suggesting this hunting spot, we never would have found them in the first place"

Taking another swig from his bottle, the green Bergen regarded his companion with a glower before it relaxed into a lazy grin. "And I will split them with you Greg. When you help me round up the rest." with that the taller, leaner purple Bergen, that she now knew was named Greg, stood to hand the plate of food to Mike with an intense stare.

Finally the tense atmosphere shattered and reluctantly he agreed to his friends terms. "Fine." Greg muttered as he took his seat back on an old rotting tree stump and devoured his meal messily. After a while the two began to chat normally again.  
They drank and talked mostly, about nonsensical things, money, booze and women. Poppy now had an insight into the workings of a female Bergen’s body that she really didn’t need to know.

After listening to the pair waffle on for so long Poppy had reluctantly taken a seat on the ground and resisted the urges to fidget and move around. She wasn't the most patient of trolls, usually when she was still for long periods of time it was because she was chatting to her friends, making something or just sleeping. But this had turned into her own personal torture, between feeling afraid of the gigantic beasts and utterly bored with their conversations and her inability to do anything but listen, she hadn't known how to react.  
So she tried to stay still, holding onto her right foot to stop it from bouncing involuntarily as she waited for the pair to bed down for the night.

Eventually after a few minutes silence, Mike stood and stretched. Raising his arms high over his head he then let out a wide yawn before speaking. “I’m done.” he announced as he turned and shuffled his way towards the tent. “Keep watch, wake me in a few hours.” without waiting for an answer he then ducked down and disappeared into the darkness of the tent.

Greg gave out a huff of annoyance as he drained the last bit of liquid from the bottle in his right hand and shuffled forwards off of the rotting tree stump to sit on the ground. Resting his back against the damp bark, he leaned backwards and slumped, his eyes absently watching the flames with a grim frown on his lips. It had only taken a few seconds for his eye lids to droop and soon he was struggling to stay awake.

Moving to stand Poppy watched the Bergen carefully, waiting for the perfect moment to make a brake for the cage. After a few minutes his eyes hadn't opened and his head had sunken down with a drunken slump. Taking the opportunity to make her move, Poppy was tempted to make a mad dash to the cover of the cage but worried that the creature might still be awake, she needed to be stealthy not fast and clumsy.

Pushing her way through the tight blades of grass that had concealed her, she cursed internally as the fabric of her dress pushed against them and with it came a soft shushing sound, but luckily the Bergen hadn't moved, sighing with relief, she took her first step towards the tent when a ting rang out from her wrist and a soft pink glow emanated from the hug bracelet.

The Bergen stirred and Poppy froze. With a snort the Bergen fidgeted and soon its head began to rise, quickly she slammed her hand over the light as she dashed back into the safety of the grass before a loud crack and rustle of leaves coming from behind the Bergens sleeping form woke it with a start. Afraid to move Poppy stayed stone still as she watched the Bergen rise to a stand, watching his towering frame as he thankfully turned to look back into the thicket in confusion.

He stood and observed the area for a second before walking to the side of the tent, then he picked up a long black metal pole with a wooden handle and snapped it open. Resting the shiny pole by the hinge over the crook of his arm, all the while his eyes were glancing towards the blackness of the forest.  
Reaching down again he snagged a small box to pulled two rounded metal objects from it, before pushing them into the opening of the poles two rounded cylinders. With a snap the pole was fixed back together and quickly he rose the strange object while walking towards the trees.  
Seeing her chance, the bright pink troll burst from the grass and sprinted across the camp to the cover of the cage. Ducking underneath she took one last look at the Bergens retreating back before dipping under completely.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Branch bolted down from the tree limb he had just yanked with his hair and made a brake for cover. If he hadn't nearly had a heart attack from what he had just witnessed he was about to have one now. What the hell had Poppy been thinking?

After arriving at the Bergens campsite he had waited high on an old twisted tree limb and watched until the Bergens had retired for the night. All the time feeling anguished and stressed after being in such close proximity to the creatures that he feared most in this world. He'd rather be facing any other animal in the whole forest rather than a blood thirsty Bergen, but Poppy had to run right into the thick of things.

Even just the scent of a Bergens musk on the breeze was enough to make him leave what ever area he was in, just to be away from them. He hated their stench with a passion.  
The distinct smell of unwashed bodies, foot odour, and the haunting smell of death clung to them like a perfume. He didn't know how he had managed to put up with it as a kid, having so many of the beasts wondering around the troll trees enclosure on a daily basis. It would be a personal hell for him as an adult and there was no way he was going to be caught now and thrown back into that prison to wait for death.

But here he was, with an armed Bergen stomping its way towards him, cracking and snapping its way into the undergrowth after he had drawn its attention away from Poppy's colourful form. Though he thought its use of a weapon that size was over kill when Branch himself was only around the size of its own thumb.

Slipping through a mass of tangled vines, Branch halted in the darkness to steady his breath and racing heart, with another few thumps the Bergen was right next to him and he froze, holding his breath as best he could as he looked up towards the massive monster. Its stench was over powering to his sensitive nose, burning his sinuses and causing his eyes to water.

He was terrified but he couldn't move, even though he was dark in colour and hard to spot in the foliage he was at a major disadvantage, he couldn't camouflage. He hadn't been able to since he had turned grey all of those years ago. He could still extend and use his hair in self-defence if needed but changing its shape was a strain and the colour never changed.  
His only hope was to stay still and pray that it didn't step on him. He never would have put himself in this situation if he hadn't been so utterly terrified for the princesses safety.  
Seeing her exit the tall grass only a few feet from the Bergens resting form had shocked him to his very core, but after the hug bracelet on her wrist had flared to life and the Bergen started to shift, he had jumped into action without really knowing why he had done it. Thankfully his actions had drawn the attention away from her but now he was in real danger.

Above him the Bergen used the butt of his weapon to smash through the foliage over head, causing a few leaves and twigs to clatter down around him, as much as the loud noise had frightened him he remained still, knowing if he fled it would draw the monsters attention straight to him.  
The Bergen stilled, watching and waiting for anything to move or give away its position, but Branch held fast. Finally after what seemed like an eternity the Bergen lost interest and with a swift turn it headed back towards the camp.

Taking in a deep shuddering breath, he savoured the taste of fresh air with a few deep inhales. The Bergen mustn't have known it was really a troll that made such a loud sound  
and thankfully it hadn't had the interest to find out what had caused it. Hearing the Bergen brake back through the tree line, Branch hoped that Poppy would have turned and fled by now and be out of sight, but this was Poppy he was dealing with, she would never back down until she had finished a task, even if it had gotten her killed.

Gathering the rest of his courage he followed the Bergens open track back to the tree line before making a beeline for the thick patch of grass bordering the camp.  
Thankfully the Bergen hadn't seemed interested in anything other than planting its self back in its sleeping position and closing its eyes. Scanning the camp he saw no sign of Poppy and with the Bergen still potentially awake he had no choice but to hunker down and wait for something to happen.

Listening to the sounds of the camp, he tried to filter through the ambient noise of the crackling fire, but the only thing he could hear was the deep breathing of the Bergen. His concern for the princesses welfare had begun to grow to dangerous levels as he waited and agonised over what to do next.  
Poppy had been a major thorn in his side for the majority of his life, either from persistently following him around as a young child to bombarding him with smiles, hugs and invitations as an adult. But as much as he shunned her attention and hated being touched he could tolerate it from her more than he could from anyone else.

It was odd how accustomed he had become to her over the past few years, watching the beautiful girl blossom into a stunning adult. As she grew and matured he started to notice how stunning and head strong she had become, suddenly the daily visits didn’t seem to be so much of a strain. Although she still had the ability to get under his skin and she would intentionally work to rial him up sometimes.  
But he couldn't deny the fact that he was physically attracted to her, what red blooded male wouldn’t have been? She was a knock out. With soft pink glistening fur so rich in colour that it seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, and her thick glorious hair that dance so elegantly in the breeze. She was stunning, sweet and loveable. He had promised himself that he would never fall for her, he couldn't fall for her. Giving into his emotions only brought him heartache and pain, yet here he was, crouched down in his mortal enemies camp trying to save her. He couldn't have been in more danger than he was right now, he should have left, he should have fled the minute that a cascade of trolls had rained down into his home from his front porch. But no matter how afraid he was right now the thought of her being out here alone, facing these monsters by herself, it was enough to drive him mad with worry.

He cared too much about her, he knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't have been so emotionally invested in another, but he couldn't help it. He had to get her out of here.  
Even if he had to toss her over his shoulder and drag her to safety he would, just to stop feeling so god damned worried. Feeling the need to press forwards he crept slowly ahead, stopping every few seconds to check on the Bergen before moving again.

Suddenly he caught a scent wafting on the breeze, it was more concerning than anything else in the camp, not the Bergen, not even the horrid stench of the decaying carcasses hanging overhead. Turning his head towards the scent, he couldn't stop himself from walking towards it, it was as if he was in a trance.  
A head of him was a large dirty brown sack that lay limply on the ground. He began to shake. Under the dark brown stained fabric lay 4 lumps, all lifeless and still. He didn't need to lift the cover to know what they were, the thick sweet smell of death was enough of an indication, it was the smell of Trollstice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry Branch! Really considered changing the ending so it wasn't so dark but it just fit to the narrative.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this has taken so long. Through home life being utter chaos over the past few weeks, job hunting, building work, looking after a sick relative and pet sitting, I haven't had the time or the energy to write, and I'll be honest this chapter has gone through so many rewrites, I have about 4 different drafts of it now. :/ 
> 
> Anyway, mentions of death and blood in this chapter so you have been warned. Some people liked the little tweak I made to the description of Trollstice, some not so much.  
> I have to explain that the tone won't stay so dark, I'm just trying to expand on world building and get into the reasons why Branch is the way he is. 
> 
> And thank you for all of the nice comments and prompts for me to keep writing, honestly, I didn't think so many people would be interested in my fan vomit. It means a lot to me, so thank you again. 
> 
> : Mentions of Death and Blood.
> 
> \----------------------------------------

Poppy struggled to suppress a squeal of delight as she set eyes on the colorful forms of her missing friends. After shuffling under the musty cover, she spotted the group of brightly colored trolls huddled tightly together in the center of an old metal rusty cage. It was dark, and a little damp under the tattered old drape, but she couldn't mistake their vibrant colors for anything else.  
She knew that a positive attitude and a little persistence would pay off. With a giddy spring, she made her way to the bars of the cage. Latching her fingers around the cool metal, before trying to get their attention with a small hiss.

Satin was the first to spot her, a fleeting shocked expression flashed across her pastel pink features before she pulled away from the group and dashed towards her. Unfortunately, due to the sudden jolt of her conjoined twins movements, Chenille had also been dragged along for the ride.  
Chenille had tried to protest until she too had caught sight of the princess and immediately joined her sister at the bars. "Poppy! What are you doing here?" the pair chorused with concern.

 

Gracing them with a reassuring smile, Poppy spoke in a calming voice. "I couldn't just leave you," she whispered to the twins. "I'm going to get you out of here.", she told them with a determined air.  
Taking her eyes from the worried pair, Poppy quickly scanned the other inhabitants of the cage as they each made their way over to greet her.

Biggie stood to the back of the group with his pet inch worm Mr. Dinkles pressed firmly against his bright blue chest, the poor giant troll looked as though he was going to cry, as he fanned his face with his left hand in an attempt to calm himself, without much success.  
Next to him stood Cooper, the tall animal trolls head loomed over the rest of the small crowd with a wide grin spread across his lips. On top of his head stood one of the smallest members of her group, Smidge.  
Again Poppy had expected to see another smile or at least a little excitement from the tiny yellow troll, but instead, she seemed apprehensive and worrisome.  
A little farther down on Cooper's back, Poppy could make out the distinctive poof of lime green hair which couldn't have been anyone but Fuzzbert.  
To the twins left side stood Guy Diamond, the glitter troll bounced lightly on the balls of his feet with excitement, causing the specks of glitter covering his cheeks to sparkle in the low light as he did, to his left stood Suki who performed the same bouncing actions as their glittery friend.

And lastly, making his way quickly from the back of the group, was the male troll she had tried to find much earlier that evening. "Creek!", Poppy squealed with excitement. With everything that had happened that evening, she had completely forgotten about her search for him at the party. In the chaos of trying to round everyone up, and guiding them to the safety of the bunker, she hadn't had the time to track him down. He looked disheveled and a little out of sorts compared to his usual calm and collected nature, but under the circumstances, she really couldn't blame him for it.

"Where were you?" she asked sweetly. "I thought you were with the others. I had no idea they got you too.". Squeezing her hands through the tight bars, Poppy grasped hold of one of his. Relishing the tingling sensation that danced through her skin as his soft palms met hers, Poppy's heart gave a giddy leap as the handsome male returned her affection by giving her hand a gentle squeeze.  
With a tender grin, the purple troll cupped both of his hands around hers as he began to speak. "I'm sorry Poppy." he began. "I.", but his sentence was abruptly cut short as the cage around them shook.

A loud crash from above moved their prison with such force that Poppy had to throw herself clear of the metal base as it rocked, nearly trapping her feet beneath it. Releasing Creek's hand she lunged backward to free herself, but as she did a sharp scuff of pain dragged across her right wrist as the soft pink fuzz on her arm rasped against the rusted metal bars, taking a layer of fur and skin with it.  
Hissing in discomfort she bounced clear of the cage, before moving her other palm to cover the injury, and quickly crouched low to the ground, shocked and fearful.

"Keep it down you little rats!", An angry voice boomed from outside, and with a loud scuffle of rustling fabric and a grumpy huff, the voice silenced, leaving the air still again.  
Waiting for a few tense minutes, listening only to the sound of her own pulsing heartbeat in her ears, and the metallic moan of the metal cage as it groaned and vibrated in protest to the sudden strike, the small troll stayed alert and ready to bolt, but after a while the air around them became still and calm again, and the only noises she could hear were the distant crackling of the campfire and the odd snort or snore of the resting giants.

"OK." Poppy thought. "Everything's fine. You're fine. Everyone is fine.", she tried to console herself, as she panted and tried her best to slow her thundering heartbeat.

She couldn't panic, she needed to be on top of this situation to help the others. Running was not an option, and there was no way she was going to give in after coming so far. Taking one last deep inhale and releasing it slowly, feeling more confident, she slowly rose to her feet, but a sharp pang of pain in her wrist caused her to falter.

Removing her palm from the small injury, she gave out a sharp inhale of discomfort, as the cool air met with the damaged skin. It was only a small wound, just above the hug bracelet on her right wrist. Unfortunately, some of her bright pink fuzz had been pulled away during her quick withdrawal from the cage, leaving the damaged skin beneath raw, unprotected and open to the air.  
As gently as she could, she ran her index finger over the small wound.

The skin had darkened from bruising and it stung a little, but it was nothing to be concerned about. Removing a small light pink handkerchief from her hair, she promptly bound it around her wrist before tightening the knot with her one free hand and her teeth. After looking after the children of the trolls village for so long, she had gotten used to administering first aid for small cuts and scuffed knees, and she had become a professional at it at this point. Satisfied, that the injury was taken care of she put her mind back to the task at hand.  
The pink troll first peeked over the base of the cage to check on her friends. They were wide-eyed and frightened but thankfully didn't look injured, each one cuddled tightly together in a frightened rainbow-colored ball not far from where they had greeted her at the bars.  
But It was only now that Poppy had some distance from the group that she realized that someone was missing. Where was Marigold? She should have been here. Scanning the entirety of the cage one more time, in case she had simply missed the bright yellow troll but it was to no avail, she was nowhere to be seen.

A heavyweight descended on her heart at the thought of having to enter the pitch black darkness of that tent and being in such close proximity to one of those monsters, but there were no other options available to her.  
Pushing down the rush of unease, steadily she made her way to a small opening of the cover, where the fabric had snagged and lifted, giving her access to the outside world.  
Through it, she could feel a slight breeze of cooling fresh air, which was welcomed compared to the stuffy atmosphere beneath the old cover.

As she had done before, she scanned the entirety of the camp, looking for any clues on where the other trolls could be, but as she had thought, the search had been fruitless.  
The only prominent thing she could see was the Bergen. Ducking back into the darkness, on her tiptoes she retraced her steps, creeping as quietly as she could she made it back to the group of worried trolls.  
Pressing her finger to her lips she motioned for them all to stay silent, they all nodded in agreement.

Reaching into her hair Poppy pulled out her scrapbook before flicking through the pages. Flipping through the assortment of birthday parties, weddings and holidays, she found the picture of the troll she wished to find and promptly shoved the book through the bars to show the others. Without a word she motioned to the group, pointing towards the small handcrafted, yellow and orange troll.  
It took a few seconds before they had caught on to what she meant, but quickly the confused expressions gave way to realization, and one by one they each shrugged or shook their heads. None of them had seen her. Saddened but not deterred she place the scrapbook safely back in her hair. At a swift jog, she bounded along the perimeter of the prison, until she halted at a large metal door.

Running her hand down the cooling metals surface from the top to the bottom she found three problems. Two tightly bound threads of twine held the door shut at the top and bottom corners, in the center was a thick metal wire that had been twisted together so tightly she couldn't unravel it, no matter how hard she tried.

Poppy herself was a strong troll but even she lacked the muscle to pry them apart. Looking back to the inhabitants of the cage, she studied them carefully, evaluating each of their talents as she tried to come up with a plan. None of them were likely to have anything sharp unless the twins had brought a pair of fabric scissors with them, but that didn't solve the wire problem.  
The first troll that came to mind was Smidge, for a tiny thing she was undoubtedly the strongest, but all of her strength was held in her hair, and Poppy worried for her safety. If she somehow became entangled with the thick cable they would have no choice but to cut her free, and that was not something worth thinking about.

A shudder worked its way up her spine as a painful memory came to the forefront of her mind. She had only been about six years old when she had gotten gum stuck in her hair, her father and Dr. Plum had managed to untangle most of it but there were a few strands so mashed together with the sticky substance, that they had no choice but to cut it free.

It was a strange and painful experience, the sensation of the tendrils being snipped through was excruciating, more painful than anything she had ever endured.  
It felt like they were cutting through her nerves themselves. It had been a shock to her young mind, every year she would have a routine trim, cutting off the damaged dead ends, but cutting into healthy hair was downright torture.  
She remembered she had screamed and cried so loud that even a teenaged Branch had come from the depths of the forest to see if she was alright.  
After the pain had ebbed away she had wept into her father's chest for the longest time. The crowd of worried trolls that gathered around them during the procedure, soon dissipated and continued on with their daily lives, but Branch had stayed, sitting next to her father the whole time. Vaguely she remembered the pair conversing, but about what she couldn't recall.  
If the sounds she made were enough to bring the most antisocial troll in their species to show that much concern for her well-being, it was not something she was about to inflict on one of her closest friends.

Seeing no other way around it, Poppy removed a small pair of crafting scissors from her hair, kneeling down in front of the lowest bind, she diligently started to cut her way through the thick rope.  
Sawing through the softer parts of the frayed twine was pretty easy to start with, but the process was slowed as the blade became too dull and blunt to even cut a single strand of the fibers, but she had to keep trying, she was going to get them out of there, one way or another, even if it took all night.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Branch broke free from his horrified trance when a sudden crash from the other side of the camp tore through his shocked silence. Tearing his eyes away from the grim scene, he forced his legs into action sprinting as fast as he could to the safety of the tall grass.

Skidding to a halt, he collapsed to his knees and retched. There was no doubt in his mind, he knew what happened to the missing trolls.  
Faintly, he was aware that one of the Bergens had shouted something, but he hadn't been able to focus on it. He was shaking violently now, he tried to calm his shattered nerves and get ahold of himself, but the tang of that scent was still burned into his mind. It was as if he had been thrown back too all those years ago, pain and anxiety clawed its way from the darkest parts of his memories to assault his senses.

Back then he had been so young and naive, he hadn't understood why such an off-putting odor would fill the evening air on Trollstice every year, he had asked his grandmother what it was and why it unsettled him so much, but she dismissed it as being a part of his imagination, then promptly set to work lighting bundles of incense around their home to cover it.  
It was on the evening of that day she was taken it finally dawned on him what Trollstice really was, what had really happened to all of the trolls that were taken, and what he could smell in the air on every Trollstice night, it was the distinct scent of death.

Of course, they were taught at a young age that the Bergens ate trolls, but the story was sugar-coated something fierce, they were never told of the true horrors that awaited all of their friends and family that were taken each year, and they were conditioned as youngsters not to worry about it.  
They were taught to sing, dance and frolick in dimwitted blissful ignorance.  
His whole family had died because they lived by those rules, each year another member was taken, and each year they would just carry on as if nothing had happened until there was only him and his grandmother left, and because he had been so foolish, his she had been taken too.

It was because he had been so blind, he should have been more cautious, if he hadn't been so lost in the rhythm of the song, then maybe she would still be here. He brought that Bergen down on them both, and his grandmother had been the one to pay the price. After that day he had shunned all of his natural instincts, he banished songs from his soul, he didn't need to be cuddled or pitied, if anything he pitted the others for not seeing the world for what it really was, a harsh cold and cruel place that punished the weak and unprepared.

Those poor trolls back at the camp suffered because they'd never been taught how to deal with an oncoming threat. That party should never have taken place. He should have done something to stop the airheaded princess beforehand, he should have been more insistent on the topic of not using the flower canons, but instead, he stormed off in a huff like he always did.  
He felt terrible. Guilt began to gnaw on his mind, he should have been more vigilant. If he hadn't left for all of that time, maybe the Bergens wouldn't have slipped over the river without him noticing.  
Branch had no idea that they were even in the valley, nevermind a stone's throw away from their once hidden home, and from the looks of their camp and spoils of the hunts, they had been close by for a few days at least.

He couldn't blame Poppy for that. "This is all my fault." He muttered to himself, "I should have stayed closer to home.", balling his fists tightly together, he slumped forwards in defeat.

Did he know any of them? It was true he hadn't made much of an effort to keep up with his childhood friends or acquaintances but there was a small chance he might have met some of the victims at one point in his life.  
They were someones loved ones, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, or daughters. How the hell was he going to explain this to some 200 trolls that were hiding back in his underground home? And Poppy, she'd never forgive herself for it.

"Poppy's still looking for them.", he gasped. The shocking realization that the sweet-natured royal was searching for those missing trolls was enough to pull him from his depressed self-loathing slump. If she found them, it would crush her.  
Branch had always wanted her to take her over-enthusiastic nightmare of a personality down a few pegs, but this would crush her. He needed to move, she didn't need to witness that, no one did.  
With a deep shuddering sigh, he ordered himself to stand. With shaky limbs, he gained his feet and gathered his energy to pull himself back together. He was used to suppressing things, and this would have to be another thing to add to the mounting pile.

After leveling his shuddering pants, he crept back towards the camp, pushing through the cooling blades of tall grass he made it back to the edge of the firelight before halting.  
Locating the Bergen first, he watched the beast intently to gauge his options. It was laying down but it didn't seem to be settled at all.  
"That's not good," he told himself as he scanned the camp one more time, he waited and listened carefully, hoping that he might catch some sign of Poppy before the Bergen did.

That was when a flash of pink dragged his attention away from the giant, back towards the tent. It disappeared before he had a chance to see it properly, but he was certain there wouldn't be anything else that shockingly pink lurking around in that Bergen's campsite other than Poppy.  
Still not convinced that the Bergen was asleep, Branch checked over its form one last time, its eyes were closed, it's breathing deep and slow, but it didn't look comfortable at all. Judging from the empty liquor bottles that littered the camp, it was fairly obvious it was in a drunken slumber, but for how long was anyone's guess.  
It would only take a split second for it to open its eyes and spot him out in the open, but he was running out of time and patience by this point. Deciding to take his chance he bolted for the cover, dipping beneath is in one fluid motion and skidding to a stop, just short of hitting a large metal cage beneath.

The sight he was met with was one that he really didn't expect to see. As he predicted, Poppy was there, and if he hadn't been so highly strung from what he just witnessed, he might have actually laughed at the sight.  
Kneeling down on the ground the bright pink troll was bent forwards using as much force as she could muster to saw away at a bundle of twine attached to a cage door, with a tiny pair of crafting scissors no less.  
Perplexed at the princesses strange actions, and her reasoning to think that she would be able to sever such a thick strand with nothing but a tiny pair of scissors, he wanted to mock her at first, but it was only after he took a few more steps into the darkness that he realized why. There were live trolls inside the cage.

Never in a million years had he expected to see any of them standing, let alone alive and well. Glancing over the group who watched Poppy through the thick rusting bars, he could tell they were Poppy's usual entourage, and usually too peppy and majorly annoying to deal with, some of them more than others. After enduring Poppy's daily visits for longer than he could remember, Branch knew this group better than he knew most of the trolls in their numbers, only because they would follow Poppy around everywhere and in turn, she would hunt him down.   
This was a problem, he hadn't expected there to be other survivors in the camp, nevermind Poppy's closest friends. There was no way she was going to leave without them, and to be honest, he didn't know if he had the heart to leave them to that miserable fate either, even if they annoyed him to no end.

As he Stepped forwards, Guy Dimond caught his line of sight first, the glitter troll turned his head to look at him with his mouth agape and confused expression plastered across his face. He elbowed the closest troll to him which happened to be Creek, who then turned his attention on him too, with much the same expression.  
"Great, now I have to deal with this jerk too.", Branch grumbled to himself. As if he wasn't already stressed enough.  
It was no secret that Creek and he didn't get along, even if Branch had been social he never would associate with him, and he had no doubt that Creek thought the same.

Although Poppy never noticed it, sometimes the smarmy troll would actively try to rub Branch the wrong way. Passive aggressive was his forte, either from subtle jabs about his lifestyle or attitude or being very touchy feely with Poppy in his presence, the latter annoying him more than Branch would ever admit.  
More than once Branch wanted to punch the yoga instructor square in the face, maybe knocking a few teeth out would humble him somewhat, but he had always refrained, Poppy would never forgive him for it.  
Why the princess had taken a liking to the annoyance of a male, Branch would never understand.  
The princess had been endeared by the smirking, calm and collected troll, but Branch only saw a lazy a layabout who most likely hadn't done a hard days work in his life.

Choosing to ignore the looks of shock and confusion at his presence, he continued towards the struggling princess. Reaching down he grasped her by the waist to hoisted her clear off of the ground.  
Her body tensed in his grasp as she let out a tiny squeak of shock, but before she could retaliate or struggle he had plopped her down out of the way.  
She bounded away from him as soon as her feet touched the ground, before twirling around to face him.  
Poppy had looked just as shocked as the others had when she realized who he was, but again he ignored it, in favor of completing the task and getting the hell out of there.

Unsheathing the large knife from the holster on his hip, he made short work of the thickly bound twine. Slicing through the line with a few tugs, as the sharp blade did most of the work for him. After the cords had been severed he pulled them free from the cage, letting the fibers pool at his feet in an unruly pile, then he turned his attention to the main problem.

Around the latch was a twisted thick piece of wire. There was no way he could cut through that. Running his fingers over the cooling metal he evaluated the coil with a critical eye.The Bergen's meant business when they tightened it, leaving almost no space between the pinched ends for anyone to get a grip.  
Working with metal was never really a trolls strong point, unless it had been smelted first and even then, the results varied. Metal was just too strong of an element for them to work with comfortably. Even the blade he had in his hand right now was a piece of scrap he found on a dry stream bed a few years ago. It was pure luck that it fit so perfectly for a knife, all Branch had done was made it a wooden handle and sharpened it.

Reaching forwards to test the strength of the bind, he was suddenly tackled from his right side. Still feeling tense and stressed, his first instincts were to pull away from the offending contact, but something warm and soft latched around his waist and squeezed his torso into a tight hug. His vision was filled with a bushel of bright pink hair, that tickled his nose as Poppy nuzzled her cheek against his affectionately.  
His body froze in her embrace, the last thing he needed was Poppy pushing through his personal boundaries right now. He wanted to pull away, but the princess had glued herself to his side and he had no choice but to endure it.  
Eventually, she relinquished her python-like hold on his body and as soon as he was free he took a huge step back to get her out of his personal bubble. He wanted to reprimand her, but fearful of attracting any unwanted attention, he reframed, choosing instead to give her a sharp glare as a warning.  
Even in the poor light, he could tell it had no effect on her what so ever, she looked positively ecstatic, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet with a bright smile on her lips.

There was no point in arguing with her when she was in a mood like this, there was no way he was going to win against the giddy troll, he knew that too well from experience. Turning his attention back to the problem, he gritted the blade between his teeth and placed both hands on each side of the strand, and with as much strength as he could muster, he tried to force them apart, but try as he might he couldn't get enough leverage to separate them. They were just too tight to get a decent hold with his large chubby fingers.

With an annoyed exhale through his nose he removed the blade from his teeth and forced it between the clingy metal, slowly he rocked the knife deeper into the groove, no doubt this was going to scuff and dull the blade considerably, he made a mental note to charge Poppy for the damage in some way or another.  
Satisfied the metal was settled he then began to twist it and with a few good rocks, the wires separated just enough to place his fingers through the gaps.  
Finally having a decent grip, he holstered the knife on his hip and began to separate the strands. It was a strain, using nothing but brute strength, he unraveled the wire, but it wasn't easy. He could feel the metal trying to recoil with every twist, pulling against his already strained muscles as the tension of the metal tried its best to fight him at every loop.

He was very aware that his body had begun to shake with exertion, and a bead of sweat trickled annoyingly down his right temple, over his cheek, and onto the ground. Usually, a task like this wouldn't have been so taxing on his body, but after the last few days of very little sleep, he was feeling every bit of the strain right now.  
Just as he made it to the last coil, a sharp slit of pain resonated from his closed palm, hissing in discomfort he felt the metal slice into his flesh, a small trickle of blood seeped through his clench hand, dripping down and onto his left foot. Releasing the biting metal, he inspected the slit with a tut of annoyance as a stream of tacky warm blood began to pool in his palm.

It was only small, it stung like hell but it was nothing to worry about, he'd endured worse while foraging and building. Before he had a chance to do anything else a small pink hand shot out and latched around his wrist.  
Yanked towards the worried face of the princess, he stood stock still as she examined the wound carefully and through the metal bars, millimeters from his face appeared a light colored handkerchief, held aloft by a pale blue hand.  
Pulling his head away from the sudden invasion of his personal space, he noticed it was being held by one of the worried twins.  
That was odd, to say the least, usually, the pair weren't so nice to him, the only interaction he had with them was because they were usually giggling at one of Creek's backhanded jokes.

Again a bright pink hand shot out to snag the fabric and hastily Poppy pressed it against the cut to slow the bleeding.  
It was strange that in that moment of peril the only thing he could concentrate on was how much smaller her hands were than his own. It had been so long since he had let anyone hold his hand, he must have only been a small boy the last time and he certainly never let anyone do it as an adult. It both bothered him and utterly fascinated him at the same time. Her fingers were smaller, her palms softer, warmer and more gentle than his own.

Cradling his hand with her left, she used the right to apply pressure, every now and then removing the bloodied cloth to check the progress of the clotting. Unconsciously, her thumb would gently caress his fingers with feather-like strokes, running the length of his little finger before trailing back to repeat the tender act. As much as his mind was screaming at him to pull away, his body refused. Hugs he was used to shunning, the abrasive sudden action would cause his body to tense and the need to flee from the embrace would take over, but this was different.  
It was tender, softer and more intimate than he was used too from Poppy.

A snoring snort from outside was enough to bring him from his fascinated daze and quickly he pulled away from her touch, pulling his arm back from her grip with a sharp startled jolt. She looked a little hurt at his unexpected recoil but the guilt and embarrassment he felt wore away quickly.  
Tightening the blood-stained cloth around his hand he set to work on the last loop, it stung like crazy but he didn't have the luxury of letting himself be babied at the moment.  
Poppy tried to protest, resting her hand on his left shoulder in an attempt to get him to release it but before she could stop him he managed to remove the wire and open the latch.

Quickly the group filtered out of the cage, Creek was the first out and swiftly he made his way to the ecstatic princess who was more than happy to return the hug he engulfed her in. Turning his eyes away from the jubilant pair in disgust, his sight was met with an elated Guy and Suki, who tried to embrace him as they exited, but he had warned them off with a scowl.  
Seeing that he was in no mood to be messed with they gave up in favor of joining the huge ball that had formed around the lovesick pair.

Having no intentions of joining the cuddle cluster forming next to him, Branch turned away as he rolled the bloodied handkerchief around the back of his hand and tightened the bind to make a bandage, he then clenched his hand firmly into a fist to stop any excess bleeding. Now that everyone was free, all he had to do was get the group outside, over the campground and back into the forest without being seen or noticed.

The forest gods must be testing him, of all of the trolls, Poppy's group were possibly the noisiest of all and unquestionably not the best suited for stealth.

Thinking carefully about their next step, the agitated troll plotted the best route to take, without leaving tracks and an obvious trail back to his home. One possible route lead them through a very shallow stream, which he had no doubt the others would protest too. Even in the hight of summer, the water tended to dip in temperature at night and a fair few gasps and complaints might draw attention to themselves.  
Letting his mind fester over the thoughts for a few seconds longer, a shuffle of fabric from outside of their hiding place caused his sensitive ears to twitch. The first impact tremor was distant, but soon the ground began to shudder with every stride the giant took.  
His breath hitched in his throat, as the others around him froze. After another shuddering vibration ripped through the floor and up into his body, his blood ran cold.

The Bergen was awake and he had no doubt that it was coming straight towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping it won't take too long to get the next chapter finished. XD


End file.
